


Falling Fast For You

by mitsuuu



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AMAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Blow Jobs, Bottom Mirage | Elliott Witt, Canon Non-Binary Character, Elliott Is Not A Legend, Elliott Is Not a Bartender, Elliott Plays Piano, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Horny Mirage | Elliott Witt, Kissing, Making Out, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Paradise Lounge, Paradise Lounge is Actually Classy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Smut, Top Bloodhound (Apex Legends)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsuuu/pseuds/mitsuuu
Summary: Alternate Universe! Elliott is a pianist at the Paradise Lounge. Bloodhound is very fond of his music and of him. Eager to get his attention, Bloodhound finds the courage to introduce themself to him and convince him to perform privately at their home. The performance quickly takes a turn - for the better.
Relationships: Bloodhound & Mirage | Elliott Witt, Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 24
Kudos: 94





	1. Booked

**Author's Note:**

> What better to do during the quarantine than write more miragehound? 
> 
> This idea is random. It popped into my head while I was doing some homework and listening to some good ole lofi (specifically, this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BysbKV9Stg). It had me wondering - what if Elliott wasn't a Legend? What if he could play piano and sing? What if he was a pianist instead of a bartender, and the Paradise Lounge was actually a pretty classy bar? What if Bloodhound was a fan of his music?
> 
> Behold, the result of my brainstorming. First chapter is pretty low key, but there will be smut ahead.

“Right this way, Bloodhound.”

They followed the maître d' further into Paradise Lounge. People watched and whispered as they made their way past. Even though they weren’t wearing their typical gear, people recognized them. The hunter stood tall, sporting a sharp, all-black ensemble and a matching face mask that covered everything except their eyes. Sleek leather gloves covered their hands and dark boots added a bit of an edge to their otherwise refined ensemble. They were led by the maître d' to the booth they favored – dimly lit, away from commotion, and offering a coveted view of the lounge’s piano.

“Thank you,” they said quietly.

“Certainly. Expect your drink shortly.”

Bloodhound gave a nod. Tonight, Elliott Witt would be performing. His stage name was Mirage, coined after the “holo-technologist by day, musician by night” bamboozled an audience by programming one of his duplicates to play piano for them. He was no maestro, but he truly had a gift. His voice was rich over his smooth piano melodies, catching the attention of men and women alike. Bloodhound had taken a liking to him as well. They made the effort to stop by the Paradise Lounge to see him as often as their schedule would allow.

A waiter set a glass down in front of them. It was the usual – dark, stiff, no ice. Veiled by the low lighting of their seat, Bloodhound could ease their mask aside and sip their beverage. The drink had a bite to it on the way down, prompting a quiet sigh from the hunter. Relaxing into the booth, Bloodhound checked their watch for the time. Any minute now. Their gloved fingers tapped quietly against their glass.

A few minutes passed before Mirage appeared. Patrons quieted as he took a seat at the piano, flashing his signature, heart-stopping smile. Many giggled and blushed. Bloodhound, too, felt an unusual flutter in their stomach. He was beautiful, they had to admit. His muscled body looked great in a button-down shirt and trousers. His hazel eyes were as rich as honey and as warm as the sun. His dark curls were always styled messily, tossed softly to the side. Bloodhound blinked out of their daydream and took another sip, the bite of the alcohol returning them to reality.

Mirage set his fingers atop the piano keys and began to play. The melodies were soft and caressing, perfectly suiting the aesthetic of the lounge. His voice crooned the lyrics tenderly, singing of the rollercoaster of love and heartbreak. Many believed Bloodhound was emotionless and cold. But, something about him melted their heart. The hunter watched how his lips moved when he sang, his brow furrowed when he concentrated and his mouth stayed curled up in a crooked smile. His fingers moved skillfully across the keys, his eyes closing as he poured himself into his melody. There was something peaceful and beautiful about the way he played. Bloodhound was entranced.

A little over an hour passed before Mirage finished his set. Patrons applauded and Elliott stood to give a bow, his smile wide and bright. “Thank you! Thanks, everybody!” he called out, giving a final bow before gesturing graciously to his tip jar. Almost immediately, people approached, prepared to shower him with gratitude in the form of bills.

Bloodhound downed the last of their drink before retrieving their wallet. Tonight, they felt especially confident. They didn’t know if it was liquid courage or if they simply couldn’t resist the urge to introduce themself to him any longer. For months, they had admired him from afar. Their anticipation was just about boiling over. The hunter figured a sizable tip would get his attention. With a few bills tucked in their hand and hidden from sight, Bloodhound slipped from the booth and approached the piano.

With the lounge soon closing, most had retired for the evening. Mirage remained seated at the piano, counting his tips while waiters and waitresses wiped down tables. He paused when Bloodhound approached, turning his attention from the cash in his hand to the unmistakable figure beside him. Mirage stared in disbelief and blinked many times to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

“ _Gott kvöld._ Good evening,” they greeted him. “May I interrupt?”

He recognized that accented voice. He had heard it hundreds of times as he watched the Apex Games. _Bloodhound_. They were a Legend, not only by title, but by reputation as well. A graceful, yet deadly killer, they had earned multiple championships and made a name for themself throughout the Outlands. After watching them battle time and time again, he found his interest in them stretching beyond how skilled they were. Who were they once the helmet and gear was off? What were they like outside the Games? Seeing them standing in front of him was a dream. Elliott could hardly believe, let alone comprehend, that he had caught their eye.

“Y-You…Y-You’re Bloodhound, right?”

Behind their mask, Bloodhound smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mirage.”

“ _Pfft_! Please, call me Elliott!”

He quickly stood up, instantly noting that they stood taller than him. He checked out their ensemble before looking back to their face. Even though their mask covered most of their identity, their eyes were exposed – striking, pale gray, nearly as clear as glass. Their skin was fair and their long hair was fixed intricately – partially braided, partially loose, half-up, half-down.

Bloodhound extended their hand to him. Instinctively, Elliott reached out to shake it, but found the hunter pressing cash against his palm instead. He looked down and quickly flipped through the bills. His eyes widened, shooting to Bloodhound to his hand and back to them again.

“A-Are you serious?” he stammered. “L-Listen, I always appreciate a good tip, b-but this is – “

“I insist,” they urged. “The gods have blessed you with a gift. You are kind to share your gift with all of us here. It is a treasure to see you perform.”

Elliott felt his cheeks grow warm. He smiled, sweeping his fingers through his hair. “A treasure, huh? You have _no_ idea how crazy it is to hear you say that. How many of my shows have you seen?”

“I have lost count. I am very fond of your music, Elliott.”

He chuckled in disbelief. The blush on his cheeks started to creep over his whole face. “N-No way. I can hardly believe that. I appreciate the support, Bloodhound.” He waved the bills and slipped them into his pocket. “And thank you for this.”

They nodded. “I am able to offer more. Have you ever been requested to perform in a more private setting?”

Elliott arched an eyebrow. “Private? Hey, I’m not that kind of performer – unless the price is right,” he joked with a wink.

Bloodhound laughed quietly. “You misunderstand me. I am requesting a private performance in my home, _kjánalegt_. I would, of course, compensate graciously.”

Elliott paused. Before finding steady work at the Paradise Lounge, he played gig after gig, from shady bars in Solace to classy clubs in the Outlands. He had never been offered an opportunity like this, let alone from someone of Bloodhound’s caliber. He knew couldn’t refuse. Not only were they a fan of his talent, but rejecting their offer could end of whatever was budding between them. Was it friendship?

Nevertheless, a part of him was curious. He fantasized – maybe they had mentioned him to their fellow Legends. Maybe they would be attending. Could this not only be a chance to spend time with and get closer to Bloodhound, but also a chance for a big break?

_Only one way to find out._

With a confident nod, he extended his hand. Firmly, they shook. “Alright, Hound. Consider me booked,” he grinned. “Ask my buddy at the door for my number. Let’s keep in touch.”


	2. Interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the title of the story. This suits it better, in my opinion. 
> 
> Thank you for all of the love on this so far <3 I am having so much fun writing and posting it. :)

A couple of days had passed since Bloodhound made their acquaintance. Elliott had to keep reminding himself that the evening had not been a dream. Bloodhound – _the_ Bloodhound – was a fan. What was more, the hunter wanted him to perform for them in their home. A “private performance,” they had called it. He didn’t normally get nervous before a performance, but this time, he was a bundle of nerves. It was his first time performing for Legends, and it didn’t help that he had caught feelings for the one hosting.

He had been struck by how polite they were to him at the lounge. It was difficult to grasp that the quiet, humble hunter who approached him the other evening was the same one who dominated the battlefields of the Apex Games. Their mysterious duality only peaked his interest in them. He tried to focus more on the butterflies in his stomach than the lump of nerves in his throat.

Elliott had every intention to dress to impress and he took his time getting ready. Posed in front of the bathroom mirror, he danced and sang along with the music blasting through his speakers as he buttoned up his shirt. A special occasion called for a special outfit – a crisp button-down tailored close to his body and freshly ironed pants. He rinsed his mouth with minty mouthwash, spritzed himself with cologne and fingered product through his dark curls before flashing his own reflection a smile. 

“Showtime.”

\- - - -

Elliott knocked three times on their front door and took a step back. Planting his hands on his hips, he admired the outside of their home. It was contemporary and earthy, tastefully mixing a sleek modern design with touches of nature. Wooden and stone accents made the home blend surprisingly well into the surrounding woods. It suited them – tasteful and inspired by nature.

His attention returned to the front door as it opened. Slowly, Bloodhound was revealed. They wore a long, dark jacket with a neat-fitting top underneath and matching pants. Again, their face was covered mostly with a mask, leaving only their eyes exposed. As before, their hair was fixed intricately. Half of it was twisted into a beautiful array of braids. Half of it cascaded in loose waves beyond their shoulders. Their appearance, as always, was striking.

Politely, the hunter gestured to him. “Elliott,” they greeted softly. “Please. Welcome.”

His smile was coy as he entered. “Thanks. Don’t mind if I do. Beautiful place you’ve got.”

“Thank you. The gods have blessed me greatly.”

He slipped his shoes off at the door. Before he could utter another word, Bloodhound stepped off into the kitchen. Elliott took the opportunity to look around. He admired the large windows that offered a stunning view of the surrounding nature and invited the rays of the sun to warm their home. They had a vast assortment of plants – tall and small, flowering and nonflowering. Their earth-toned furniture contrasted wonderfully against the contemporary elements of their home. The space felt sleek, warm, and surprisingly cozy. It was clear their many championship victories had provided them much wealth. 

Elliott started to follow them into the kitchen until he spotted the piano. It was hand-carved, designed with a golden inlay that accented its rich color. He let out a long whistle as he approached it, subconsciously taking a seat at its stool. Carefully, he ran his fingertips across the keys, marveling their smoothness and shine. Elliott smiled to himself, snapping out of it only when the hunter’s voice sounded a few feet behind him.

“It is over a century old,” they said quietly. “For me, it has only been an art piece. Not once has it been played for me.”

Elliott looked over his shoulder. He spotted Bloodhound stood in the doorway, a glass of red wine in either gloved hand. They extended a glass to him as they approached. “It _is_ an art piece,” he answered and accepted the glass of wine. “I’ve never had the chance to play _anything_ like this before, Hound. You might have to pry me off of this.” 

Bloodhound chuckled quietly. “I encourage you to enjoy yourself. Should I allow you a moment to practice before your performance?”

Elliott arched an eyebrow and looked past them. “Where’s everyone else? Am I early?”

Their head tilted. “I do not understand. No one apart from you and I will be here.”

Elliott met their eyes, his own round with surprise. This really was a _private_ performance. There would be no other guests. No other Legends. Just Bloodhound. His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t played privately for anyone in years, not since his mother had asked him to play her favorite song and cheer her up. And now, he had to play for _Bloodhound_.

He took a nervous sip and shakily lowered the glass. “So am I, uh, performing for you? Just you?”

Bloodhound blinked as if the answer was obvious. “Yes. Was I unclear?”

He shook his head exaggeratedly. “N-No, no…! No way. I’m, uh, y’know. Just making sure.”

“If you are uncomfortable, Elliott, I will not take offense.”

He waved a hand. “Nah, anything but. More than happy to oblige, Hound.”

The hunter nodded and turned to leave. “Very well. Please, take your time. I will return.”

Elliott watched as they dismissed themself, leaving him sat alone at the piano. He blew out a sigh, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers to loosen up. This wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. He had played hundreds of times before. A smile touched his lips as he remembered his mother’s endless words of encouragement. She always believed in him, even when he didn’t. The thought of performing for them had him tensing up, but he kept his mother’s words at the forefront of his mind and let his unease fade.

He downed a large sip of wine and set the glass aside. Laying his hands gently on the keys, he pressed down and let a melody fall easily from his fingertips. The song calmed his mind, reverberating beautifully off of the room’s natural acoustics. Quietly, he started to sing. He poured everything into the piano. His nerves, doubts, anxiety. It all melted away.

His song drew Bloodhound back to the doorway. They watched him. He was a beautiful pianist. Their eyes caught how his emotion showed on his face, as raw as it expressed itself in his voice. His strong hands rose and fell against the keys with a little flourish at the end of each musical phrase. His muscles flexed with every sway of his body. As he continued his song, they approached him. Standing behind him, they set down their wineglass, removed their gloves and unfastened their mask. Elliott remained unaware. Carefully, Bloodhound set their hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss beside his ear.

Elliott’s eyes shot open.

Somehow, he kept playing. The feeling of their lips on his skin made him shiver. Their hands were strong as they kneaded the tight muscle of his shoulders. Their mouth trailed kisses against his neck, his skin peppered with goosebumps. Elliott let a moan interrupt his singing, a wordless plea for them to keep going. They pressed against him, letting their lips linger against his hammering pulse and every bit of skin they could reach. Bloodhound hummed, pausing their kissing to affectionately nudge their nose against his neck. They inhaled his scent – a mix of masculine musk and the rich smell of his cologne.

“Please. Do not stop, _elskan_ ,” they purred.

Elliott bit his lip. It wouldn’t be easy. He was already hard, his erection straining against the snug fabric of his pants. He tried to focus on the piano keys through hazy vision. As their lips moved down his neck, his singing became breathy and shaky. Their hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, their slender fingers working to undo his buttons. Elliott put up no protest, shuddering at the cold air that met him once his shirt was open. Their hands were equally as cold against his hot skin, massaging and scratching his exposed body. Unable to focus any longer on playing piano, his hands fell into his lap. He groaned, palming himself against his pants as his chest heaved beneath their wandering touch.

Elliott could hardly make sense of the unexpected change in events. He’d arrived at their home with the intention of treating an audience to a private piano performance. Now, there was no audience. It seemed like there would be no performance. Whether or not Bloodhound had intentionally thwarted the afternoon to seduce him, he didn’t know or care. He welcomed it.

Elliott rotated on the stool to face them. Immediately, he was breathtaken. Their features were both masculine and feminine. They had fair skin, crystal clear eyes, strong bone structure and full lips. Their face was framed by their a long, silky, light-colored mane. To him, their beauty was one-of-a-kind. He wanted to touch their face, but also wanted to respect them. Elliott could only smile as he admired them, affectionately noting how their cheeks reddened.

“You are _gorgeous_ ,” he murmured, sweet sincerity in his warm eyes.

A gleam in their eye conveyed their thanks as they leaned forward to kiss him. They held it there, smiling as Elliott tilted his head and parted his lips. They followed suit and swiped their tongue against his lip, moving their mouth hungrily against his as the kiss quickly deepened. The room was no longer filled with the sound of music. Their kissing and moaning took its place. Caught up in the kiss, Elliott didn’t immediately notice Bloodhound pushing his shirt past his shoulders. The kiss did not break as he shifted out of it, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. With a moan, Bloodhound ran their hands over every accessible inch of his sweat-sheened skin.

Elliott eagerly tugged at their jacket. “Get out of this for me?”

Bloodhound nodded. Their hands were shaky as they squirmed out of their jacket and top. Elliott couldn’t help his staring. Underneath their clothing, their body was lean and strong. Their skin was decorated with elaborate tattoos, old wounds and fresh scars. He admired the various markings on them, attempting to make sense of symbols that paid homage to their mysterious culture. He even admired their wounds. Each told a story of an encounter had in the Ring or a battle fought before their life as a Legend.

As Elliott continued to stare, a flush crept over their face. Elliott smiled sweetly at them. “Beautiful. Absolutely _beautiful_. You’re going to get tired of hearing me say that.”

Tenderly, they swept their fingers through his hair. “Try me.”

The kiss resumed and took little time to become passionate again. His tongue explored their mouth, running carefully over sharp teeth. Playfully, they nibbled his bottom lip. He groaned, gasping for air when their lips broke away and they began to plant kisses down his throat. They nipped and licked at his skin, his hands curling to fists in his lap. Bloodhound did not stop kissing until they were knelt between his legs, their lips taking time to mouth over the hard muscle of his abdomen. They looked past his belt and at his erection tenting his pants with obvious arousal. With a hum, they massaged him, noting his hardness and heat. Elliott inhaled sharply, pressing back so quickly that he accidentally struck the piano keys. 

“F-Fuck,” he choked.

Their eyes were fixed on his – focused, hungry. The petting against his erection grew needier. He knew that look in their eye. He knew what they wanted and he wasted little time in working his belt undone. Bloodhound watched him unbutton his pants and unzip his fly, running their tongue over their lips in anticipation. With a breathy moan, Elliott let his erection spring free, its tip swollen and slick with pre-cum. Bloodhound curled their fingers around him and started to stroke. He felt wonderful in their hand. As if good looks weren’t enough, Elliott was well-endowed.

“Talent _and_ beauty – is there anything the Allfather did not bless you with?” they purred.

Elliott bit his lower lip. He couldn’t deny the power a good compliment had on his ego, especially from someone was stunning as Bloodhound. The blush on his face deepened as he looked down at them. Like before, their eyes were focused on his face. It was maddening to see their lips hovered just barely above his cock. He pressed his hips down against the stool, fighting every part of him that made him want to thrust his cock into their awaiting mouth.

“H-Hound…” he panted. “ _Please_.”

They continued to stroke him, watching more pre-cum drool from his tip. His cock pulsed in their hand, an unmistakable sign of how badly he wanted them. With another lick of their lips, they leaned forward to slowly take him into their mouth. For a moment, their eyelids fell, a groan sounding low in their throat as their tongue arched and swirled around him. Elliott moaned loudly, reaching out to curl his fingers tightly in their hair. Unintentionally, he tugged as they bobbed their head, though the pain was pleasing to the hunter. Bloodhound moaned and flicked their eyes upward to watch pleasure twist his features, his lips parting as he panted heavily. He lifted his hips in time with them, sliding his cock deeper down their throat. Skillfully, they swallowed around him.

“ _Sh-Shit_ …! Ahh, _fuck_.”

Rattled with pleasure, Elliott had to steady himself. He gripped the edge of the piano stool and hissed in a breath through his teeth. Bloodhound loved his reaction and wanted more of it. They bobbed their head faster, their rhythm never suffering even as Elliott’s thrusting became uneven. Already, he felt his orgasm approaching. As much as he didn’t want them to stop, he didn’t want it to be over. Not yet.

He tugged their hair again. “H-Hey, Hound,” he breathed. “L-Let me…I-I…I wanna…”

Bloodhound took the hint. As they withdrew, strings of saliva and pre-cum dangled between their mouth and his cock. A quick flick of their tongue broke them before they leaned forward to press gentle kisses to his inner thigh. Elliott swept his fingers through their long hair. Welcoming his touch, they tipped their head toward his hand and looked up at him. “How can I please you?”

Elliott grew hot. He wasn’t the type to be shy, but their straightforward question caught him off guard. Their willingness to please him was incredible, but he wanted to please them as well. He swallowed hard, meeting their eyes before he carefully asked his question.

“Can I touch you?”

Bloodhound hesitated. Their inner voice told them to deny his request. Saying yes meant giving him access to a part of them hardly anyone got to see. But, there was something about Elliott. Maybe it was the earnestness in his warm eyes. Maybe it was how patient and understanding he was with them. Despite just recently meeting one another, Elliott already respected the things about them that others might mock or judge. It was a sign of his sincere soul. Bloodhound almost felt undeserving. 

With a nervous nod, the hunter took his hand. Sweetly, they kissed the backs of each finger, the back of his palm and down his wrist. They turned his hand and kissed the center of it, letting their lips linger before they rested it against their chest. Elliott could feel their heart racing under his touch. Quietly, Bloodhound took in a breath and released it, letting all uncertainty and fear escape with it.

“Yes. Please, touch me.”


	3. Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time! I hope everyone is staying safe and well. I think I've watched Bloodhound's animated short at least a dozen times. SO GOOD. As if it wasn't possible to love them even more. <3 
> 
> The smut from last chapter continues in this one. Then, one more chapter to hopefully wrap everything up with a pretty bow. Thank you everyone for the continued love and support on this! I have been enjoying writing it and plan on writing more miragehound while we're all stuck inside. I've got another idea in the works.
> 
> Thanks again and enjoy! <3

They took his hand and laid it against their body. Elliott took his time, tracing every intricate tattoo and roughened battle scar. He leaned forward and kissed every mark, smiling against their body as they arched beneath him and drew in a breath. Bloodhound watched him, twitching whenever the wet warmth of his tongue flicked against them. His lips made their way upward. He kissed the column of their throat, their angle of their jaw, and the edge of their mouth, the bristly hair of their beard leaving faint red marks against their skin. Bloodhound gasped his name and craned their head, holding on to him as if the pleasure could send them soaring. They could barely find air as he sucked, nipped, and kissed them, his breath hot against their flushed skin. Bloodhound snatched his hand and lowered it to their belt. Immediately, Elliott followed along and tugged at it until their pants slipped down their legs. He palmed them through their underwear. They whined, bucking needily into his touch.

“Elli…E-Elliott…! _More_. Please…!”

He chuckled huskily against them. “With pleasure.”

He pushed their underwear down and wrapped a firm hand around them, steadily pumping the pre-cum-slicked skin with ease. Bloodhound could not quiet themself or keep from thrusting needily into his hand. Hungrily, they claimed his mouth, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. They held his face in their hands and invited his tongue to writhe against theirs, small whines escaping them whenever they could catch a breath. Elliott used his other hand to pump himself, thrusting into his own hand as he admired the breathy sound of their voice.

“Mmnh,” he groaned deeply. “You’re so... _beautiful_.”

“Ahh, ah…! Oh, _Elliott_ …”

It was overwhelming. Bloodhound felt their knees wobble. Their body craved for more. Chasing desire, they broke the kiss with a gasp and met his eyes. The look in their eyes said it all as they pulled him up from the piano stool and took his seat, patting their lap lightly with a smile. Elliott mirrored the look on their face, carefully slipping into their lap to straddle their waist with his knees. Bloodhound planted their hands firmly against his ass, deeply kneading and spreading the tight muscle. They brought one hand to his mouth and nudged against his full lips, watching as he obediently opened up. Unquestioningly, Elliott sucked on their fingers, closing his eyes as he swirled his tongue around them to fully slick them up. Bloodhound hummed lowly and squeezed his ass again, their cock pulsing eagerly between them.

The hand on his ass squeezed him again, hard enough to make him gasp. Their grip held firm as they spread him open and pressed the pad of a slicked finger against his puckered hole. Elliott wrapped his arms around their neck and pressed closer, arching to give them better access. They rubbed him in small circles and toyed with him, daring to slip inside only to withdraw and make him whine. He pushed back into their touch, letting their finger easily slip inside. With their finger thoroughly slicked with his salvia, thrusting in and out of him was effortless. They moaned as he clenched around them, his muscles pulling them further and deeper into his warmth.

“Ohh…” Elliott shuddered. “Mmnh. _Fuck_.”

A second finger joined the first. Together, both fingers fucked him – hard, accurate, relentless. Elliott cried out and craned his head back, his eyes shut tight enough to see stars. They were unforgiving, jabbing the swollen bud of his prostate with every thrust. When their fingers split and stretched him, his entire body jolted. He hissed in a breath through his teeth and sunk down completely on their fingers, letting moan after moan spill out of him.

Bloodhound watched him, captivated by how wonderful ecstasy looked on his face. Watching him greatened their hunger for him. Little by little, Elliott became further undone. His heart pounded beside theirs, telling the hunter how powerfully lust surged through his body. He needed them as badly as they needed him.

“ _Elskan_ ,” they purred. “Are you ready for me?”

Elliott nodded desperately. “More than you know,” he panted. “Give it to me, Hound.”

Gripping him by the hips, they lifted him until the tip of their cock brushed against his ass. They pulled him apart, growling deep in their chest with a hunger that made Elliott shudder. As badly as they wanted to fuck him right away, they took their time. They eased him downward, watching his face as he slowly sank down onto their cock. Elliott let out a shuddering cry, wrapping his arms so tightly around them that he could feel every powerful beat of their heart. They did not stop lowering him until they hilted, his body rocked with a sensation of fullness as their cock throbbed inside of him.

Bloodhound pressed sweet kisses against his face, groaning as he squeezed around them. “You feel wonderful, Elliott,” they whispered against him. “I can hardly contain myself.”

He quickly shook his head. “Don’t,” he breathed. “Don't hold back. Fuck me.”

His words sparked something wild in their piercing eyes, a mix of hunger and lust that Elliott could not recognize. Their hold on him tightened as they lifted him on their cock, slamming him down with enough force to make him bounce. Every hard thrust of their hips shook him, the size of their cock stretching him wide and spearing him deep. Elliott kept his arms woven tightly around their neck, his fingers pushed into their hair. He rocked quickly in their lap, losing his breath as Bloodhound moved their hips with him and relentlessly struck his sweet spot. After seconds, his skin was sheened with sweat, his hair hung in damp curls and his cheeks flushed dark red. Agonizing pleasure twisted his face to the point where the noises escaping him sounded pained. Bloodhound echoed each of his throaty moans, the look in their eyes unwavering as they grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.

“Elliott…! Ahh…!” the hunter called out against his mouth.

His brain was mush, flooded with passion, his words stumbling breathlessly out of him. “K-Keep…keep fu-fucking me li-like that. _Pl-Please_. D-Don’t…d-don’t stop…!”

Bloodhound obliged. Their cock continued to fuck him, pounding against his prostate with an accuracy that had him close to screaming. Their kiss was infectious, stealing his breath each time their sharp teeth nipped him and their hungry tongue tasted him. Pleasure coiled itself tightly in his stomach, threatening to snap and send him flying into an orgasm. But, before he could climax, Bloodhound lifted him from their lap and bent him over the piano stool. Instinctively, Elliott planted his palms flat against it and arched his ass in the air. With both hands, Bloodhound spread him open again, pushing effortlessly back inside of his gaped hole.

Even louder than before, Elliott cried out. “A-Ahh…! Oh, _fuck, fuck_ …!”

Driven by the noises escaping him, Bloodhound fucked him hard and wild. Their hips slammed against his ass, shaking him every time they pounded unforgivingly against his prostate. Desperate to steady himself, Elliott gripped the edge of the piano stool, his parted lips leaking drool down his chin. Bloodhound reached around to pump him in time with their thrusts. Their other hand claimed a fistful of his dark hair, tugging until Elliott yelped in pleasure. Bloodhound was the type of lover he imagined. Dominant and ravenous, like a predator to its prey.

As his eyes started to roll back, he could no longer fight his orgasm. Their name left his lips in broken gasps as it rushed over him, rocking him like never before. His cock pulsed in their hand, shooting his cum against the floor and across the piano stool beneath him. Bloodhound buried themself completely inside of him and reached their climax with him, their body trembling as they filled him to the brim with their release. It felt hot and unending, exacerbating how full he already felt. Elliott whined, giving a few final thrusts into the hand that refused to stop pumping his spent cock.

“F-Fuck…oh, _fuck_.”

“Elli-Elliot… _Elskan…”_

Bloodhound panted quietly behind him. They leaned down to press gentle kisses against his back, finally letting their hand drop from his sore cock. They withdrew with a sigh, watching thick streams of cum trickle down his inner thigh. Exhausted, Elliott collapsed in a heap on the stool and leaned back against the piano, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as he attempted to catch his breath. Bloodhound slipped into his lap and wrapped their legs around his waist, running their fingers lovingly through his hair. Elliott laid a gentle hand against the small of their back. His smile was soft and sweet, his warm eyes admiring how beautiful they looked even with tousled hair and half-lidded, droopy eyes.

“You are somethin’ else,” he whispered. “That was…incredible.”

Bloodhound smiled back at him. “I could say the same.”

“Please, do. I’m all ears,” he grinned.

Jokingly, they nudged his chest. “I have never met anyone like you, Elliott.” They kissed him, letting it linger while his fingers tenderly caressed their cheek. “I do apologize for interrupting your rehearsal. I do not know what overcame me this evening.”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Hey, whatever it was, I want more.”

They let out a quiet laugh as they stood. Elliott did the same, lifting clasped hands high over his head in a lengthy stretch. Bloodhound knelt down and examined the piano stool with a small frown, noting the cum smeared across its normally pristine surface. Clicking their tongue in displeasure, they stood and stepped away to fetch a towel. Elliott realized their frustration and panicked, snatching his shirt from where it had been tossed on the floor to use it as a rag. Frantically, he started to clean up the mess, his smile nervous and wide.

“M-My bad, Hound! I w-wasn’t really thinking. Sh-Shit, this is probably worth a fortun-fortu-fort…this is probably _super expensive_ , huh. N-Not to worry! Le-Lemme take care of this r-right away!”

Calmly, Bloodhound set a hand against his shoulder. He quickly looked at them, relieved to see kindness in their eyes and not anger. “Do not be silly. It was not intentional. It is impossible to consider these things when in the throes of passion.”

Elliott arched an eyebrow. “You mean, ‘it’s hard to think straight when you’re doin’ it?’ Yeah, I agree,” he winked.

Bloodhound made a face at him. “Yes, I suppose so. Please, help yourself to a shower. I will take care of this.”

Elliott smiled coyly. “Alright, only if you’re sure.”

They insisted with a nod, gesturing toward the hall with a gentle nudge against his back. Elliott took their cue and made his way out of the room, accepting their tender hospitality with a flutter in his heart. He started to leave, but only after he snuck another look at them – the one he was pretty sure had stolen his heart.


	4. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final update! A continuation from the previous chapter.
> 
> This story had been such a pleasure to write. I want to thank everyone again for the constant love and support. <3 I hope you enjoy this sweet, fluffy ending. Expect more from me in the near future, as I am already working on another miragehound fic. I have to say, being stuck inside more than usual has done wonders for inspiring me to write. 
> 
> Also, can we acknowledge how crazy it is that a writer at Respawn came out with this tweet (https://twitter.com/MannyHagopian/status/1240298283949608963)? I never saw this until now! Mirage playing piano is canon? Maybe? :)
> 
> Anyways, please stay safe, stay well, and stay inside! <3

Their bathroom was as sleek and earth-inspired as the rest of their home. Wide windows drew in natural light, warming the cool tile floor beneath his bare feet. The see-through shower was large and fitted with a rainfall shower head. A variety of potted plants added a touch of color that pleasantly contrasted the modern feel of the room. Everything from the bathroom’s design to its ambiance oozed harmony.

Opening the shower door, he turned the faucet to the highest temperature and stepped in front of the mirror. He spruced himself up, sweeping his fingers through the dark curls that had been tousled and tugged, smoothing the bristly hair of the beard that had tickled their skin, touching lightly over where Bloodhound had held him tight enough to leave behind faint scratches. Elliott’s smile hadn’t faded a bit since he’d left them in the living room, and as images of their time together flashed through his head, it widened. He could still hear the beautiful lilt of their voice as they purred words of adoration beside his ear. He could feel the fullness of their mouth against his own, claiming him in a way that made his entire body shudder with delight. He could feel their body pressed flush to his, his name leaving their lips in a gasp as he attacked the sensitive skin of their throat like a starving man.

Lust still pumped hotly through his veins. Being with Bloodhound was unlike any experience he’d shared in the past. It was gentle and loving, and yet passionate and a little rough – an intoxicating combination that he already wanted more of.

Once the shower water ran hot enough to steam up the bathroom mirror, he stepped into it. He ducked underneath the stream, tilting his head back with a deep sigh as the water ran over him. He helped himself to the many pleasant-smelling soaps and gels at his disposal, watching all of the marks on his skin become concealed beneath thick, soapy suds. As he rinsed, he relaxed and closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he could see them as clearly as if they were in front of him. He could see every aspect of their ethereal beauty – their piercing eyes, elegant bone structure and long, light-colored hair. He could see the way they had looked at him when they were about to kiss him. He could see the hunger in their eyes when they fucked him, driving into him with such force, speed and rhythm that not even the hot water could soothe his sore skin.

Several minutes of a self-indulgent shower passed before he cut the water. He slipped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, pushing back the wet curls that had stuck to his forehead. As he dried himself off, it occurred to him that the clothes he’d been wearing upon arriving to their home had been left with them in the other room. He decided to emerge from the bathroom with nothing but a towel fixed around his waist, his hazel eyes searching for any sign of the hunter.

He spotted them stretched across the couch, lazily finishing their glass of wine while they peered out of the window. Elliott cherished the moments before they noticed him. The sun warmed their fair skin and seemed to illuminate their light-colored hair. Fresh out of the shower as well, they were dressed only in a sheer robe. He could see their body underneath, a few stray droplets of water glistening in the light. Their beauty made his breath catch.

Eventually, Bloodhound noticed him. They met his eyes with a small smile. “Did you enjoy your shower?”

Elliott grinned. “Very much. _So_ much better than mine at home. That shower head you’ve got? I _need_ to get myself one of those.”

They let out a quiet chuckle. “I am glad you enjoyed yourself.” Their eyes lowered to the towel wrapped around his waist before turning to a pile of clothes on the cushion beside them. “I imagine you would like a change of clothes. Please, wear these.”

Elliott approached the couch and lowered himself next to them, sifting through the clothes. It was a simple outfit with a casual, yet tailored appeal. Smiling, he looked up at them, but before he could express his thanks, their hand gestured to a bag at his feet. He bent forward to examine the contents, finding his clothes from earlier folded neatly inside. The smile on his face spread wider, his eyes locking with theirs as their hand lowered lovingly to his leg.

“Forgive me. I did not have time to wash them,” Bloodhound murmured, moving their hand tenderly against his skin. “But, they are all there for you.”

Elliott clicked his tongue, his expression assuring as he shook his head. “Please. You’ve gone above and beyond.” He leaned in to kiss them, slowly and sweetly. A quiet hum from the hunter brought his fingers through their still-damp hair. “You really know how to make a man feel special.”

“It is my pleasure,” they answered against his lips. Bloodhound returned their back to the couch as he stood, gently twirling the wine in their glass. They took a sip as he dropped his towel, their eyes dragging over the chiseled contour of his body, the faint flush of his freshly-showered skin, the cut of his lower abdomen. They swallowed the wine in their mouth as their eyes traveled lower, unashamedly letting their gaze linger. As if he could feel their eyes on him, Elliott paused dressing himself and looked at them. He followed their stare and let out a laugh, bending at the waist to plant a quick kiss to their cheek.

“Why do I have a feeling you don’t _really_ want me to get dressed?” he teased.

Bloodhound felt their cheeks redden, a smile pulling at their mouth. “I will not apologize for staring. You do not make it easy.”

Elliott pulled the shirt over his head and shot them a smile as he flicked his hair to the side. He extended a hand to them to help them off the couch, his arm slipping smoothly around their waist to draw them close. He kissed them again, pleasantly noting the taste of wine of their lips. “And neither do you. You are gorgeous. Beautiful. Exquis-exqu-exqui-uh… _wonderful_ ,” he stammered, emphasizing each compliment with a kiss.

Bloodhound could not contain the laugh that escaped them, their arms draping loosely around his neck. “You spoil me with your words,” they said softly. “And of course, Elliott, I have not forgotten.” An arm dropped to their side as they slid a hand into a pocket of their robe. Just as when they had met him in the lounge, they extended their hand to him to press a folded amount of cash against his palm.

Elliott recoiled a little, having entirely forgotten about the private performance and the payment altogether. He shook his head, carefully lowering their hand back to their side. “No, Hound. I can’t accept this. I was supposed to play for you and I hardly did that. We got a little, uh…distracted.”

The hunter resisted, trying their best to wedge the money between his fingers. “That does not matter. I made a promise to you and I will not break it.”

“And I will not accept money for a promise I couldn’t keep,” he insisted lovingly. Again, he lowered their hand and guided the money back into their pocket. His other hand tipped their chin upward to ensure they wouldn’t miss the sincerity in his hazel eyes. “I mean it. Besides, if you paid me now, after we’ve, uh, y’know…fooled around?” He cringed playfully. “Not a good look.”

Bloodhound chuckled through their nose, letting their forehead fall affectionately against his. “Very well, Elliott. I understand.”

Elliott brushed the backs of his fingers across their cheek, watching as they tipped their head into his touch. “How about this? Swing by the lounge sometime soon and sit up front this time. I wanna see you while I play.”

Uncertainty deepened the lines of worry on their forehead. It wouldn’t be easy. They had grown accustomed to watching his performances from the comfort of their private booth. But, their heart told them that Elliott was worth it. Any hesitancy would melt the moment he’d meet their eyes and warm their heart with a smile.

Finally, they nodded. “Certainly. For you, I will make an exception.”

Elliott beamed and kissed them. “You’re the best.”

Collecting his bag of clothes from the floor, he stepped reluctantly towards the door. An unexpected sadness gripped his heart as he watched them unlock the door. He would have done anything to repeat the evening. He wanted to return to the moment when they greeted him, when they swooned over his music and soon found their lips on his. He wanted another taste of the fiery passion that had been so hot between them. He wanted to stay a while, maybe long enough to find themselves tangled up in each other again – lips locked, hands entwined, hearts beating in sync. He wanted their voice to send him to sleep while their fingers swept through his hair, neither one of them moving until sunlight roused them in the morning.

But, before he knew it, the door was open. Bloodhound turned to face him, their hand cradling his jaw as they leaned in to give him a kiss. Elliott could sense the longing behind the kiss, as if they, too, were wrestling with the same dilemma. He did not want the kiss to end, and when the door slammed shut behind him, he jolted and shot his eyes open. His confusion was muffled as Bloodhound pressed closer, pushing him against the door to desperately deepen the kiss. Elliott dropped the bag at his feet, wrapping his arms around them so tight that they melted into him.

He tried to speak, his words breathy. “H-Hound! Hound, wh-what’re you – ”

“Stay,” they panted. “Do not leave, _elskan._ ”

His breathing hitched. He leaned back to look at them, his widened eyes searching their face as he replayed their words over and over again. Their sweet smile assured him that what he’d heard had not been a misunderstanding. With his expression softening, he pulled them into another kiss, letting what-had-to-be-love swell his heart until he was sure it’d burst.

Smiling wide against their mouth, he answered them. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
